


i don't want you like a best friend

by gsales



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mortal, Best Friends, Drunken Kissing, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mentioned Piper McLean, Mentioned Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, Minor Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, i was insecure about the rating so i made it M, they could be demigods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28849725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gsales/pseuds/gsales
Summary: When she looked at herself in the mirror, she could almost hear Percy’s breath on her neck, and his lips exploring the bare skin above her chest. She could almost see his hands slightly sliding from her waist to the bottom of her back, recklessly playing with the ties of the dress and undoing them slowly. She could literally feel her lips tingling just by the thought of kissing him, feeling the wistful smile on his lips and his salty taste on her tongue.She took a deep breath, calmed down. And bought the dress.Now, she hoped wearing it tonight might make some of that come trueorvery cliche mortal au where they're best friends and in love and too stupid to talk about it
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 123





	i don't want you like a best friend

**Author's Note:**

> so  
> since taylor swift is my entire source of inspiration...  
> i was listening to "dress" this days, and this came to my mind  
> so I wrote it  
> I hope you like it!
> 
> ~gabi

Annabeth wasn’t much of a dress lover. She didn’t appreciate the feeling of looseness that skirts brought to her legs. Somehow, she felt insecure. And Annabeth was fond of certainties and securities. She also didn’t like the way she looked when she wore dresses that much. She didn’t feel like herself; it was almost like she was trying to be someone else. Then again, that also brought her the feeling of insecurity. She had enough instability in her life. So if she could control her clothing choices to be as reliable as possible, she would. Yeah, Annabeth didn’t like dresses.

That’s why she couldn’t quite understand why she’d been so drawn by that one. It had caught her eye the moment she’d seen it in the store, while she was passing by looking for some new shirts. Actually, she knew. _Percy_. For some reason, the dress evoked all the memories, thoughts and features of him in her mind. It was a sleeveless, dark green dress. The deep V-cut ended on thin strings that went over the shoulders and intertwined in patterns in the back.

She tried it. And, looking in the mirror in the fitting room, she shivered. It highlighted her collarbone and left most of her back showing. The skirt was light, longer in one side and with a slight breach on the other. Somehow, it fitted her perfectly.

However, that was not the reason why she shivered. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she could almost hear Percy’s breath on her neck, and his lips exploring the bare skin above her chest. She could almost see his hands slightly sliding from her waist to the bottom of her back, recklessly playing with the ties of the dress and undoing them slowly. She could literally feel her lips tingling just by the thought of kissing him, feeling the wistful smile on his lips and his salty taste on her tongue.

She took a deep breath, calmed down. And bought the dress.

Now, she hoped wearing it tonight might make some of that come true. It’s Piper birthday party, and she has no idea who half the people in the room are. Piper’s house feels like a Hollywood’s star mansion, mostly because it actually is, but Annabeth is used to it. What she’s not used to is being in such a crowded room, with an outfit so revealing and without her best friend. At this point, really any person she could trust and be comfortable around would do. Of course, there’s Piper, but she’s… doing her own stuff. Annabeth regrets turning down Hazel’s invitation to get ready and go together. Now, the extra 20 minutes’ drive to her friend’s place seemed worth it.

Either way, she’d made her choice. So, she puts her glass aside and gets up to get another drink, allowing herself to get lost in thoughts. Normally, in situations like this, she would’ve come with Percy. Probably, they would’ve spent the afternoon together, goofing around and watching old or silly movies at his place. Then, Sally would’ve helped her with her makeup and Percy would drive them there. She would be safe from the feeling of being alone.

Except that, today, none of them had brought up the idea of that happening. They weren’t exactly on _hanging out carelessly_ terms. Of course, he’d said it was fine. She’d agreed. They would be fine, they always did. _You’re my best friend_ , he’d said.

Just as obvious, this wasn’t exactly what she was hoping to hear. He wasn’t lying, though. She was his best friend, just as he was hers. But, as much as she loved him and valued their friendship, she didn’t want him as her best friend anymore. Not after kissing him shamelessly that night at the bar. Not after feeling the alcohol on their breaths while they looked each other in the eyes and he led her away from their friends before taking her lips on his. Not after feeling his hands on her body and the way he felt holding her that close.

They had ignored it, mostly. After all, it was the alcohol and the excitement of the last night in college. It was just the circumstance. It was just something friends did. Except, of course, it was not. And they knew it. But they didn’t get past the “we’re fine, right?” and the unavoidable tension and weirdness that stood in the way of their relationship after that.

Really, it’s so cliché and predictable and actually _ridiculous_ that Annabeth can’t fight the urge to snicker at herself and shake her head. If twelve-years-old-Annabeth saw this, her own self caught in that ridiculous _falling for her best friend_ story, she would beat herself up.

“Hey,” a familiar voice pulls her back from her thoughts and she turns around, momentarily forgetting her freshly poured whiskey on the bar.

She feels electricity run all over her skin while she stares at him, intently, and she can’t bring herself to say anything. It’s like everything around them slows down and her words can’t form completely in her mind.

“Annabeth?”

Everything literally stops when he says her name, his voice cracking in the middle of the word. She can tell he’s nervous by the way he taps his fingers on his thighs.

She shakes her head and forces her brain back to functioning mode. “You’re late, Seaweed Brain,” the sarcastic, yet loving nickname that was reserved for her only bruises her lips on the way out of her mouth. “Can't say I’m surprised, though.”

He manages a side smile, and she almost misses the road his eyes wander down her body when she turns around to grab her glass. They linger at the end of her V-cut for a moment when she steps towards him and she can’t help but raising an eyebrow when he blushes and meets her eyes again.

“You look amazing,” he says, almost in a whisper.

“Well, thank you.”

She thinks about telling him he doesn’t look too bad himself, with his plain white button-up shirt and beige pants, but decides she’s had enough of clichés. It’s bad enough she’s developed feelings for him, she’s not going to make it worse by making their conversations sound like rom-coms' dialogues.

“C’mon," she says. “Let's wait for our friends outside.”

They sit in the pool lounge in an uncomfortable silence for a while, facing each other as they eat some fancy canapés and try to fill the atmosphere with awkward and superficial questions about their lives, to which they already know the answers. They share the whiskey she’d grabbed for herself and she’s sure he feels the same electric shock as she does when they reach for the glass at the same time and their fingers meet.

The dance they’re choreographing with their eyes, as their gazes meet and run away, lingering on various parts of their bodies and returning to each other, doesn’t stop when Frank and Hazel arrive and start to talk about lighter and more natural topics. They engage on the conversation, but their eyes are far away, as well as their minds.

They’re on their secret place, and they know they share it. They know that their thoughts come together in the same picture of the two of them, tucked into a frame so small that their bodies are obligated to intertwine. They know the image of the silver moonlight enlightening each other features, even though they’re too close to contemplate them, is only possible because they inhabit this same place in their heads. Their secret place.

Still, they have no courage to say anything. They have no courage to try and make it come true.

So they stand there. They pretend their eyes aren’t meeting each five seconds and their hands aren’t sweating so much that they have to wipe them on the couches every minute. They pretend they know exactly what Hazel and Frank are talking about and they’re not constantly fighting the urge to stomp their feet anxiously (Percy looses that battle and soon enough his heel it hitting the ground repeatedly in small motions). They pretend they don’t blush furiously and shiver completely every time Annabeth catches him staring at the neckline of her dress and he catches her looking at the loosen top buttons of his shirt.

That is, until Piper comes to them, visibly drunk, and basically shouts:

“Hey, guys! Ok, now if it isn't my favorite group of people around here?”

Annabeth gets up to talk to their friend and takes the drink out of her hand.

“Annabeth! I wanted to talk to you,” Piper continues, in her high pitched voice.

“You did?”

“U-hum,” Piper points at a girl standing by the pool, talking to a small group, that occasionally shoots a glance at them. “You see that girl over there? That’s Reyna, a friend of mine from high school. She came to ask me who you were and was wondering if you would want to… talk to her,” she finishes with a knowing smile and wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh,” Annabeth says, brilliantly, as she takes a sip of Piper’s drink. She blushes a little as she meets Reyna’s gaze, that’s directed intensely to herself.

“So, what do I tell her?”

Anabeth looks at Percy, waiting for him to say something, expecting he would do something. He just stares back at her blankly, jaw clenched. She _wants_ him to give her a sign. A blink, a head shake. She wants him to give her a reason not to go. She _needs_ it.

But he doesn’t.

She turns to look at Hazel, who’s smiling slightly and nods encouragingly.

So she turns Piper’s whole drink in her mouth and gives the empty glass back to her friend. She doesn’t know exactly what she just drank (maybe something with gin?), but she couldn’t care less.

“You don’t tell her anything,” she says and turns to walk towards Reyna. “I will.”

* * *

Reyna is nice. She’s beautiful, fierce and obviously smart. She’s a good dancer, and Annabeth stares in wonder as she leads her gracefully through the most different songs. She talks about society and poverty issues and shares sweet memories of Puerto Rico and Annabeth can’t even say she’s not her type, because it wouldn’t be exactly true. She is attracted to girls who defy stereotypes and, of course, patriarchy.

But, this time, she wasn’t. She tried to. She knew she should like Reyna. She knew she should reciprocate her flirtatious comments and come up with charming compliments, but she couldn’t. Actually, she did like her. She could see them drinking coffee and discussing their frustrations in life, talking about their problems at work and trying to solve some mathematical charade together. She could see them as friends. But she couldn’t feel attracted to her.

She couldn’t, because not even all the alcohol she’d drank during their conversation was able to take Percy off her mind. Tipsy Annabeth didn’t feel any more inclined to forget the way he’d looked at her body tonight. Drunk Annabeth also didn’t erase the sensation of his lips on her skin from her mind. And by the time Reyna finally dismisses herself, politely ("I can tell your mind’s not here. I can tell you’re in love with someone else. It’s fine. I’d still like to know you better, I feel we’d be good friends"), and leads her back to her friends, as Annabeth apologizes, she’d really had had more drinks than she should.

She feels dizzy and is sure she's saying some things she shouldn’t and laughing at things she wouldn’t. So, when she sits besides Percy she accepts the glass of water he gives her.

She isn't a kid anymore. She isn't _wasted_ and she knows better than to keep drinking. But she wouldn’t lie: she is drunk.

“So… No luck?” Hazel asks her, sympathetically.

Annabeth shakes her head. “Nah. I liked her, but…” she trails off as her eyes meet Percy’s and she realizes he is staring at her. “Well, I guess the heart wants what it wants."

Hazel raises her eyebrow and hums, falling back on her seat and leaning deeper into Frank, closing her eyes.

“I guess sometimes you have to do something to help out your heart a little,” says Frank.

Annabeth straightens on her seat. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “I-uh… I just mean you don’t-“ Hazel chuckles slightly as he stumbles with his words. “You can’t use this as an excuse for everything that happens in your love life.”

Annabeth feels herself blush and Hazel opens up her eyes again. “I think what Frank means is that maybe sometimes you have to take a chance, even though you’re not sure.”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

Percy finally joins the conversation with a small cough. “Guys, leave it. If she says she didn’t feel it, she didn’t feel it.”

Hazel raises her eyebrow again and Frank blushes slightly, but they change the subject. They meet some other friends. They talk and dance and laugh at Annabeth’s drunk comments until the music is too loud and the people are too drunk and the floor is too dirty and Hazel and Frank decide to go home.

Then, it’s just Percy and Annabeth again, and there’s a weird quietness in the crazy sounds that people make when they’re drunk and dancing to bad music.

“I can’t drive,” she says, suddenly, turning to face him.

“Me neither,” he answers, and she can tell there’s a lot of alcohol in his body too just by the scent of his breath.

“We should’ve thought about it sooner and gotten a ride with Hazel and Frank.”

“Yeah. Maybe we should.”

He drops her gaze and they stay quiet for a moment. Then, he stands up, suddenly, and offers her a hand.

“Let's find some place quiet,” he says, and she accepts his hand.

Their fingers intertwine as they make their way through what’s left of the party. She’s not sure what time it is. Maybe 3 AM? 4 AM? She wouldn’t know. They pass through a table with a tray full of birthday cake and she grabs a plate for them before continuing to follow him god-knows-where.

Finally, they reach the small balcony in the back and Percy invites her up the stairs. She knows the place because she’s been there with Piper before, but it’s a private part of the house. She’s not even sure how Percy found it.

There’s a jacuzzi on the deck, but it’s empty. She faces it as a sign for them to go in and steps inside and turns back to him. “You're not coming?”

“What do you want to do in a jacuzzi with no water?”

She shrugs. “Eat cake?”

He laughs, amused, but climbs in besides her.

They sit down, facing each other, toes touching until she changes positions and tugs one ankle beneath her, folding the other leg after on her side.

They eat in silence, alternating bites of the cake and watching one another, the dim light of the moon and the balcony making it hard to distinguish the details on their faces, if they hadn’t memorized each other’s. The noise of the party still echoes around them.

Suddenly, he speaks up. “Can you believe we’re not 16 anymore?”

She smirks. “Percy, we haven’t been 16 for 6 years already. You've only noticed it now?”

Even in the dark, she notices he is blushing.

“No, I mean…” he holds the fork in the middle of the way between the plate and his mouth. She moves so she can snatch the piece of cake he had in it. He sends her a look but doesn't complain, as she gives him a childish smile. He leans back into the border of the jacuzzi and she follows him, settling besides him. “You just proved my point,” he says, grinning.

“What do you mean?”

“About us being sixteen. I mean, if we think hard enough, right now, the two of us… It could be as if anything had changed. As if we were in high school, helping each other survive everything that’s bad in it, making stupid choices and doing stupid things such as eating cake inside a dry jacuzzi at our friend's party at midnight.”

She snickers. “I'm sure it’s after midnight, Percy,” she teases.

He rolls her eyes and looks at her. “You know what I mean.”

She keeps her gaze steady in front of her. “Would you want that? That anything had changed?”

The cold wind rushes through them and she shivers, but that’s not the reason. She shivers because she feels too vulnerable, too… seen. Percy has seen her best and her worse. He’s seen her grow up and make bad choices and suffer because the people she loved made bad choices. He’d seen her cry and shout at the world when she was too angry to deal with the fact that it didn’t accept her as she was. He’d seen her deal with her issues and also her being unable to deal with them. Still, he’d always managed to be there and see the best in her, even in her worst times. That’s what she loved most about him, but also what made her the most scared.

He knew her _too_ well. Maybe too well to love her.

“Hell, no,” he answers. “Don’t you remember my horrible haircut? Why would I want to stay like that?”

She laughs, but turns to face him.

“Shut up, Seaweed Brain. I’m serious.”

He consideres it for a while, sustaining her gaze. “No, I wouldn’t. I mean, growing up sucks and everything, but… I like my odds currently.”

She raises her eyebrow, carefully. “Your odds?”

“Yeah…”

“Care to explain?”

He ignores her and brings his face a little closer to hers. She can feel the air coming out of his nose each time he breathes. His eyes flutter to her lips and back to her eyes and eventually down her body, and he licks his lips as she follows them.

“You really look amazing in this dress.”

She’s not sure how it happens, but one moment their lips were apart and, the next, they aren't. They touch softly in the beginning, carefully as if waiting for the other to pull apart or pull them out of their shared daydream.

But neither of that happens, so their tongues meet halfway.

Kissing him is better then she remembers. The way his lips part slightly for hers and the way his hand steadies at her waist, pulling her in gently, but firmly. The way his hair feels soft through her fingers and his body reacts to her touch making him shiver.

They deepen the kiss and pull closer and closer until the position they’re in is not enough anymore and he pulls her waist, moving her to his lap. She feels breathless, but she can’t stand the thought of letting him go, until he pulls apart slowly and contemplates her.

“This dress,” he mutters, with a amused smile, and, before she can complain, starts kissing her neck.

“I- I was thinking of you,” she says, panting, and he hums in response. “When I bought it, I thought of you.”

He lifts his head to face her, all swollen lips and bright eyes.

“You thought of me?”

His hands play with the straps in the back, just as she’d thought.

“Uhum.”

“You bought it because you thought I’d like it?”

She shows him a smile and tugs on his head, bringing his lips back to her neck before putting hers on his ear to whisper. “I only bought this dress so you could take it out.”

She feels the immediate response of his body. He bites her neck before looking at her again, sustaining her gaze firmly as he finds the place where the stripes of the dress come together in a tie and slowly, almost in slow motion, pulls it apart.

She gasps as she feels the soft fabric loosen slightly.

He’s got the nerve to speak. “Like this?”

She tries to recompose herself as his lips wander down her collarbone and the newly-revealed skin. “It was sexier in my mind,” she says, which is enough for him to raise his head and smash their lips together again, pulling her so close to him she thought their bodies might actually merge.

When they pull their lips apart, both panting, they keep their bodies together and she nestles her head in the crook of his neck, trying to even her breath while tracing soft kisses.

It’s almost too late when she notices he’s playing with the loosen stripe on her right shoulder, dangerously sliding it softly down her arm.

“Percy,” she says, alert, a sudden wave of consciousness taking her mind.

“Hm?”

“I don’t wan’t to do this at Piper’s jacuzzi in the middle of her birthday party.”

He freezes and puts the stripe back into place.

“Well, it’s hardly a party now,” he says.

“ _Percy._ "

“Okay, I get it,” he sighs and she pulls slightly away, caressing his hair and looking deep in his eyes.

He straightens her dress and ties it on her back sloppily. She goes back to sit besides him and he puts an arm around her shoulder, so she rests her head on his chest.

They stare at the sky for a while in silence, appreciating the tiny stripe of clarity that started to show up.

“You really are gorgeous in this dress,” he says, finally, without looking at her. “You kept me on edge all night.”

“Maybe you could’ve said it sooner,” she replies.

“Sorry. I was trying to be a good best friend.”

Her eyes are closing, and she didn’t fight to keep them open. Instead, she enjoys the coziness of Percy’s body and the warmth he makes her feel.

“Percy,” she calls, her voice nothing but a whisper, her eyes still shut.

“Hm?”

“I don’t want you like a best friend,” she says.

He didn’t move. “Ok,” he whispers back.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Me neither.”

More silence.

“Good,” she isn’t sure if she says it or if she just thinks it before drifting to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> like i said, taylor inspired
> 
> follow me on tumblr: @hellpotter


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